Intermezzo
by SIR JAZZ
Summary: How Sasuke takes it like a man and attempts to compliment Hinata. SasuHina AU Oneshot


**Title: Intermezzo  
Author: SIR JAZZ  
Rated: K  
Genre: Romance/Drama  
Summary: How Sasuke takes it like a man and attempts to compliment Hinata. SasuHina AU Oneshot  
****Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor am I making any form of profit in writing this fic.**

_**The past meant nothing to him.**_

Hinata had just gotten her hair cut the other day. All that long, fabulous inky hair was chopped short, to a layered pixie cut. He hadn't said anything to her about it yet. He probably should have though. Her friends kept prodding him about it, telling him that she thought that he thought it was horrible.

Sasuke didn't understand. The absence of an answer did not mean he didn't like her hair. In fact, he loved it. He thought it made her look younger, but at the same time, more mature, as well as fresh and playful.

After a short span of time, he approached her after her college classes and leaned slightly on one leg. She looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak, wanting to know what was so urgent that he had to miss his Economics class.

It wasn't really the before that scared him to death. True, he did have an unnecessary and lengthy time to prep, and had a whole library of excuses as to why he hadn't told her beforehand, but none of things actually stopped him from telling her. He'd put it off, procrastinate, telling himself he's save it for another day, waiting for the perfect moment to talk to her. And of course, it took a lot of persuasion and semi-lethal threats from his friends, but he eventually did it. It was a long time coming, but that's just it; it was expected, not at all awkward as he thought it might have been.

_**He enjoyed the present, but it wasn't what he was living for.**_

And though his heart was hammering in his chest as he spoke those simple words to her, that wasn't quite what gave him the chills. He was a man of few words—so was she. They never spent a lot of time talking, but they certainly knew more about each other than anyone else did. And he didn't miss the slight dance of amusement in her eyes, the sparkle of a small smile on her lips. So she thought he was funny—big whoop! People were often telling him to get a sense of humor anyways.

What really got him was that short span of time where the words had just left his mouth, and her lips were left slightly agape after his confession. He couldn't pull back his words, nor could he wipe her memory clean in case she didn't react quite the way he expected her to. He couldn't turn back time, couldn't crack a smirk and say, "Just kidding" because it would tear him to pieces and throw away any chance he ever had of making her the slightest bit happy.

It was the after that made his knees buckle, his feet quiver in his shoes. It was that moment inbetween his declaration and her reply that he wanted to shrivel up and die like a tomato (he loves tomatoes) in the summer heat (he also loves sundried tomatoes).

"I like your haircut."

He holds his breath and struggles to keep himself from wincing as soon as those few words roll off his tongue. He doesn't want to see her reaction, so he stares at the floor.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her hand coming towards him, and he shuts his eyes tightly, worried she might want to slap him. He was sure his comment was a compliment, not the usual insult or jeer that he had for her. None of his normal scathing, biting, snide remarks were directed towards her this time. He is scared that she might he so shocked by his outburst that she'd respond in a negative way. He is drowning in a storm of doubts, in a sea of qualms, in an ocean of—

Instead of feeling the stinging shock of her slap, he feels her smooth fingers caress his hard jawline and lifts his head up slightly, to lock eyes with her. She is much shorter than he is. Her eyes are much brighter than his are. Her skin is much more flawless than his is. Her character is so much purer that his is.

Her hands are still holding his face, and he decides he quite enjoys having her hand on his face like that. He expels a great gust of air and waits for her to reply.

"Thank you, Sasuke."

She offers him a sweet, five million watt smile, and he remembers again why he was preparing so fervently for this proclamation of… her spectacular haircut, and why he loved it so much. The corner of his lips quirked up in the smallest grin, but she sees it anyways. Her eyes are very precise and calculating.

Hyuuga Hinata bursts into a light giggle and she rests her other arm on his shoulder. "I got my haircut nearly two weeks ago, Sasuke!"

His eyes widen in realization and he shrugs, turning away. Her arms fall to her sides. "I haven't seen you in a long time. Why on earth would I want to see your ugly face anyhow?"

Instead of bursting into tears like she normally would, she sighs and runs a hand though her now chin-length hair. It looked a bit like the hairstyle he sported during her childhood. "One step forward, two steps back."

Sasuke looks at her and raises an eyebrow. "Let's go to the salon. I think my hair's longer than yours. Weird."

_**The future meant everything to him—his future with her. **_

**Don't ask.  
****Not beta'd, sorry.  
No need to review.  
Have a nice day.**


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